To Set Her Free
by maasila
Summary: A SB Oneshot set mid season 6. He loved her enough to set her free...


Warnings: Strong language, Adult Themes

Disclaimer: You want anyone or thing related to BtVS, go see a delightful fellow by the name of Joss Whedon

She must trust him. The thought bombarded him as he eyed the discarded handcuffs. Despite what she said, she must trust him. Why else would she be here, asleep in his arms? A monster with no soul or conscience to restrain him. A monster that could harm her. She knew all this yet she remained here next to him, vulnerable. That was the ultimate proof of trust in his eyes. Buffy trusts Spike. The thought comforted him. It somehow made up for the other things. Her harmful words or the look of contempt she threw him before she left. Why did she return if she hated him so much? What made her return to her enemy for comfort? Trust.

Another, more troubling thought slowly invaded his brain as he continued his gaze on his lover. What if she came to him _because_ she didn't trust him? Did she want him to hurt her? If their sexual escapades were any indication, she certainly didn't seem to mind getting hurt. Of course, he simply credited that to her nature. Slayers and violence go hand in hand. And Buffy was a slayer first and foremost. But Buffy wasn't herself lately, now was she? All Slayers had a death wish and Buffy had more than one reason to want to die. It enraged him. Every minute, every second, he fights his nature, his demon, to be with her. To be worthy of her. Chip or no, his demon screams, even now, to kill. It never stopped reminding him, goading him.

Remember what we were? The power we had? How it felt to hold a life in our hands? To take a life? Now look at you. You're pathetic. Leashed by the slayer. You give her everything you have, everything you are, for what? Humiliation. A few quick fucks after which she'll run. You're not even good enough to spend the night with. What happened? Time was, we commanded respect…Look at you now.

Buffy. She was what happened to him. He was doing this to earn her love and trust. All the humiliation was worth it if it meant he was something in her eyes. But the thought that she came to him because didn't trust him. Because she expected him to hurt her, wanted him to hurt her. It was too much. It made all the sacrifices he's made and all the humiliation he's suffered…meaningless.

She looked so beautiful, so serene. There was even a hint of a smile on her face. He kissed her neck. Not where the others had tasted her but on the unblemished side. A soft, tender kiss on unmarred skin. He inhaled her scent. It was electric and drew out the demon. _Look at you now…_ It took seconds, not even, before his fangs pierced her skin. He swallowed any objections put forth in his mind along with her blood. She moaned at first, no doubt thinking this one of his sexual exploits, she whimpered in protest after, realizing the truth. But it was to no avail. She barely opened her eyes before he nearly drained her. Within moments, she lost consciousness. He knew exactly how much blood to take.

It was almost comical to him. One of the, if not _the_ greatest slayers of all time. The one who defied fate, and the odds, time and time again to defeat every foe to cross her path. The one who, in the face of almost certain failure, always pulled through and saved the day. It was one of the things he loved about her; she just couldn't be beat. She'd faced demons older than time and crueler than Satan. Monsters created by men and the gods who'd created them. She always won. The undefeatable slayer drained by her vampire lover while resting in her post-coital bliss. After years of planning her demise and failing horribly, all it took was good shag and a moment of rage. It was funny, almost.

She still looked beautiful. Damn her. Even now, near death, she controlled him. If he had been less selfish, he would let her go now, peacefully. Give her what she so sorely craved for: peace. Let her slip away and return to heaven. He would have done that had he been less selfish. As it turns out, he was quite selfish. The summer after her death had been was the most painful time in his life. And for one who had lived over a century, that was saying something. He needed her, in whatever shape or form. His words to Xander the night of her miracle resurrection were true.

"And I wouldn't let her. If any part of that was Buffy, I wouldn't let her."

The whelp had been right, too.

"Look me in the eyes, and tell me when you saw Buffy alive, that wasn't the happiest moment of your entire existence."

It was. The thought, idea, mere glimmer of losing her again, having to exist without her bought forth his demon once more. Without thought, he tore at his wrist and placed it over her mouth.

All that remained was to wait. Typically a few days were required before the transformation was complete. The life would drain out to be replaced by the demon. He had no idea how long it would take the slayer. Sooner? Longer? It didn't matter because he would wait. He wouldn't force her to claw her way out of a coffin. Not again. She would awaken in the open. And he would be there. No matter who, or what, awakened to face him, he would be there. Will she still have her soul? Will she be a monster? Will she have more strength than other vampires? Less? Will she still be the same? It didn't matter to him. He would still be there for her, no matter what. Still, his heart, or what remained of it, mourned for the fallen warrior. His slayer. The love of his undead life. In his own way, he had given her a release. His Buffy was gone. He hoped to a better place. He waited and he hoped.

"Spike?"

"Here, Pet."

Fin


End file.
